On the march we observed the existence of a curious system of warnings. Now and then a green bough, newly broken off, would be found lying in the path, and the sight of this almost drives the natives out of their wits; for it is the recognised symbol that some one has been there who does not want you to pass. It has a correlative in a friendly symbol, which is also a broken bough, but in this instance it is not entirely severed from the tree. Another superstition is “Wada,” which, as far as one can ascertain, seems to be a belief in an invisible man who stands near a tree, but is so like it that he cannot be seen. As you go through the forest “Wada” may touch you, and then you are doomed. After this there is nothing for you to do but go home and die; and so great is the power of suggestion, that a person who believes he has been touched by “Wada” generally does die. Mavai practised “Wada,” but it took a somewhat pharmaceutical form with him. He made an abominable mixture of rotten bananas, and all sorts of decomposing matter. This he kept in his house and gave to persons he wanted to be rid of, generally without any evil effect, but that never shook his belief in the efficacy of his decoctions. It was delightfully comical to see the seriousness with which he sat compounding his horrid messes, and telling you of their dire results. It may be wondered how ever he got the dread substance administered; but then, of course, Mavai was all-powerful, and the person who refused to take his “Wada” drugs would probably have encountered “Wada”—a sure and certain “Wada”—in the person of Mavai himself. There was also some confusion of “Wada” with a stone or a stick, and therein probably one might find the truth about the real deadliness of the charm. The Papuans are entirely without history as a people, and of personal tradition they have only the merest scraps. At Port Moresby they had a legend of an eclipse, and referred to it as “Labi labi” (that is, “night”). They have no tales of gods or heroes, and their chief interest is the question, “Where are you going?” and “What are you doing?” They were very keen to see our photographs, and had no difficulty in understanding a picture: therein they differed greatly from the debased Australian aborigines, who could never grasp the graphic symbol, and in the famous instance, when shown a picture of Queen Victoria, said it was a ship. They picked out their friends’ photographs at once, and recognised them with exclamations of delight. For one of our men, however, our stereoscope proved too much, as the relief of the figures had probably been too realistic; and on being invited to look at a group of our retainers, he no sooner put his eyes to the glass than he howled and nearly dropped the instrument. He ran away, saying, “Mookau meego” (“Man lives there”), and could not be persuaded to look again.